Bathroom Confession
by The World's Best Auror
Summary: "You are going to do the best damn love confession in the world and she'll fall in love with you and you'll hold her hand and kiss her sometimes." In which Soul psyches himself up to confess. Rated T for slight swearing.


Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own Soul Eater.

**Bathroom Confession**

"You can do this, Soul. You got this. You are going to tell her _today_, okay? Today is _the_ day. Right after you step outside of this bathroom, you _will_ tell her. You are going to do the best damn love confession in the world and she'll fall in love with you and you'll hold her hand and kiss her sometimes."

What was he doing, you ask? Soul Eater, one of the most powerful weapons in the world, a Death Scythe, the one who helped defeatAsura, was talking to himself in the mirror.

This actually wasn't that uncommon an occurrence. He's been psyching himself up to confess to his meister, Maka, basically every day after he showered. It's been going on for about seven months now. It has shown no sign of stopping.

"Soul Eater, you are damn good-looking, you're cool, and you're not going to just sit by while she gets asked out by five guys a day," Soul told his reflection sternly. "You can do this. You are the man. Even though she hits you a lot, and you argue with her too much, she won't reject you."

Probably. Maka's too nice of a person to let a friend—especially her partner for years—get his heart broken by her refusal to date him. But then again, she's also too nice of a person to lead someone on by dating them when she doesn't feel the same way. Goddammit.

_Maybe Wes would be better at this_, Soul thought. His brother, Wes Evans, was basically kindness in a human body. He'd probably be oh-so-romantic, the type that anyone who's ever read a romance novel would swoon for. He'd probably get Maka some flowers or some cliché thing that she'd love and then she'd blush her cute, chubby cheeks off and Wes and Maka would run off into the sunset, leaving Soul broken-hearted. Fuck. Why is he even thinking about this.

What if she didn't reject him, or leave him for his brother (_whom she'd never even met_, his rational side added)? Maybe he'd take her out to Mina's, that pizza place down the street, and maybe they'd hold hands while they walk. Maybe he'd order her favorite kind (pineapples, ham, mushrooms, and extra cheese) and tease her for eating five slices. Maybe she'd kick him for making fun of her, and then laugh her special laugh where her nose sort of wrinkles up and it does funny things to his chest.

Maybe they'd stroll back home together and cut through the park and maybe then he could take her hand and kiss her and she'd wrap her arms around his neck. Maybe eventually they'd get married and have three kids. Maybe they'd get to grow old together and die in each other's arms. Or maybe not.

What if she rejected him though? Their current relationship would be over. He'd have to move out of Death City to avoid seeing anything that reminds him of her. He'd have to quit being a weapon because there's no use if Maka's not the one handling him. He'd have to settle for a low-paying job being a pizza delivery guy and then he'd be fired because people are afraid of his red eyes and pointy teeth. Then he'd be living on the streets because he has no money anymore to pay rent.

He'd be that weird hobo across your house, drinking moonshine and wondering where his life has gone.

Why was this so hard, he wondered.

And also, how had he become a hobo.

Soul looked back at his reflection and sighed. He messed with his hair for a while and gave up trying to tame it.

"Just remember, Soul, it's better to have tried and failed than to never have tried at all, and all that jazz," Soul said. But wait a minute, that's not quite right; if he failed, wouldn't he have to become a hobo or something? Ah, damn.

"Whatever. You are going to confess to her, and you are going to do it the moment you step out of this bathroom. Damn the consequences. You've done this every damn day for around seven months now. I didn't think _the _Soul Eater was a goddamn coward. Get out there and talk about your feelings for once in your life," Soul told himself. He's been in the bathroom for half an hour now. He has to go out of the bathroom soon.

"Dammit, Soul, just go out there and do it! Don't worry if Black Star makes fun of you, just break a game or two of his and he'll stop. Kid would probably be proud of you and hope you guys make beautiful symmetrical children. Tsubaki would wish you luck; Liz and Patty would take Maka out shopping; and Blair would slip you a condom. You can do this, just breathe."

"Hey, Maka, I have something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now," Soul rehearsed, pulling a supposedly cool face. "I've liked you for a really long time now and—"

Angry knocks sounded on the door. Fuck his life.

"SOUL! YOU'VE BEEN IN THERE FOR CENTURIES! I'VE BEEN HOLDING IN MY BLADDER FOR _AGES_! IF I GET A KIDNEY STONE, IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Maka shouted from outside the door. "GET OUT NOW! I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE STARK NAKED, JUST LET ME PEE."

There she was. The love of his life. And she needed to pee.

"Fine, fine! I'm getting out! And I'm putting on a towel, don't worry," Soul yelled back. He thrust open the door and saw his meister with a light flush on her pretty face and her hands on her hips.

Did she… hear?

Oh my fucking God.

Fuck.

_Please tell me you didn't hear_,_ please tell me you didn't hear, please tell me you didn't hear,_ Soul chanted in his head. Maka pushed past him and shoved him out of the bathroom.

_Maybe I'll tell her tomorrow, _thought Soul.

Note: I like to think that Soul's a big planner for the future, and I like that his thoughts ramble on to them growing old together and dying in each other's arms. Or being a hobo. This was fun, yeah.


End file.
